Fragrance Reviews from June 2010

Ever since I heard of this fragrance, I had imagined I would love this. From the cheeky name to the very thought of an incense-based fragrance created by the offspring of the grand Guerlain dynasty, I had conjured up an idea of my perfect fragrance. Ah, but as they say, try before you buy.

And so I did. The beginning of my test application was promising, with what struck me as a delicious licorice incense--although I can't quite define what note registered as licorice in my olfactory nerves. This delight was brief, though, as it soon settled into a rich and pretty (but neither beautiful nor sensuous) fruit jam.

This is not to say that Sacrebleu is not fine stuff--indeed it is--but that suggestions that this is an oriental rather than a straight-up floral are, I think, really wide of the mark, as there is nothing very spicy or woody here.

Being fifty-something, I confess I do find the constant dismissive references to "old-lady" fragrances irritating. Yet I must also confess that I had thoughts that Sacrebleu would be a fragrance I would give my mother (were she still living) as it is elegant and lovely but certainly not in the least bit sexy or as exciting as its exclamatory name would suggest. (Nor, for that matter, is there anything "sacre" about it.)

Three weeks after my first test, I tried Sacre Bleu a second time, using the remainder of the sample vial. Being trained to analyze, process, then analyze and process again, I was troubled by my inability to sort out just what I found unappealing about it before. The second test produced several additional thoughts. I kept thinking there was some childhood recollection in all this, but I couldn't place it. At first, I thought it was some sort of candy--the kind kids eat, not because it's good but because it's candy and it's there--and realized that Sacrebleu strikes me as more fruity than floral. (I'd been stumped before, trying to pin down a particular flower.) I could swear I smelled banana--more some strange banana/raspberry flavoured something or other--and I could smell the incense more clearly this time, though it was an incense far removed from the ecclesiastical variety one encounters in CdG Avignon or Heeley Cardinal.

And then it hit me. Not so much a childhood memory but a teenage one. By the end of the 60s and the beginning of the 70s, virtually every place that sold records--no matter how unhip--also sold incense. Not only the patchouli sort that automatically registers "hippy" in so many minds, but just about every scent imaginable....

In Margaret Atwood's novel The Handmaid's Tale, the protagonist is enslaved in a world of religious fanaticism where all cosmetics and fragrances are banned for everyone but the wives of the ruling elite. As her skin begins cracking from the lack of any sort of moisturizer, the protagonist steals pats of butter from the dinner table to soothe her discomfort. I remembered this novel when, during a visit to Toronto nearly twenty years ago, this California girl found out very quickly what a short walk outside without gloves in sub-freezing temperature could do to one's hands--mere hours before an important dinner party. My skin became so painful that I slipped a pat of butter under the table and rubbed it all over my hands. It worked wonders but smelled awfully, awfully funky and I just hoped no one else at the table would detect the scent...

Nearly all of the reviews of Tubéreuse here mention the smell of butter. When I sampled it today--and with my usual flair for testing used the entire sample vial--I smelled something very, very strange that evoked an odd memory. Though I readily detected the floral element--and thought this was the most unpleasant tuberose fragrance I'd ever smelled--there was also something else that dominated in the top notes that was decidedly unfloral. What was it?? I'd never encountered it in a perfume. Then I remembered that long-ago dinner party in Toronto...

Now, after reading the notes, I can only assume it was the coconut milk that set my nerves jangling--though it surely didn't come off smelling like coconut. Personally, I just love butter in or on food, but I surely don't want to wear it. Even when the top notes faded, I could still smell something butter-like. And, I might add, it didn't exactly smell like fresh butter--the word "rancid" came to mind. The butter smell took over five hours to fade and completely overwhelmed anything floral for most of that time.

Reviewers on another site have noted a rotting or stale vegetable scent. We are probably smelling the same thing, just calling it different names. The dry-down didn't improve it. It just faded into something less vivid that is neither attractive nor offensive.

Ambre Soie is not only my favorite of the Armani Privé fragrances, but also my favorite amber. The anise note appeals to me particularly and distinguishes it from other amber perfumes I have smelled. It lacks the food associations of Ambre Narguilé and the heavy vanilla of Ambre Sultan, qualities which make those two less appealing to me. Although Ambre Soie is expensive, a little goes a long way. I will probably never need a second bottle as I do not wear it often compared to my soliflores, but if something happened to this bottle, I would definitely replace it. Thumbs up!

I adore this fragrance. It reminds me of a smell I encountered on a trip to visit the gardens of a Chateau in Champagne. It had been raining heavily, despite it being late June, and I wondered off in to a rose garden with hundreds of aged rose bushes dripping in summer rain. The smell of the slowly drying, damp earth (cumin) and the dark leafy greeness, combined with the heady, warm, rose scent and that hint of the greengrocers (Iris) which all damp gardens have was intoxicating. No.18 takes me back to that moment instantly. I understand why some find it difficult, but I find it bewitching, and it's my favourite of this range.

Wow...this scent never really changes from start to finish but it smells like a dead ringer for Cool Water's dry-down. Why would anyone want to duplicate Cool Water 7 years after the fact? Since CW was still a best seller in '95, I guess Roccobarocco was trying to capitalize on Davidoff's success. I was expecting more originality and something distinctively Italian...Instead what I got was an imitation of a mass-market designer success fragrance...Just get Cool Water; its cheaper and easier to find.

Put Juniper, Lavender, Jasmine, and Violet together in a fragrance and I'm likely going to feel nauseous. I'm not usually a fan of galbanum either, and strong citrus bothers me. So, Blue Jeans is sort of like an anti-fragrance to me, due to the notes they used. I also consider it poorly made and the ingredients seem low quality. Baby Blue Jeans is kind of a pared down, more masculine version of Shalimar, so that one isn't bad, if that's what you are seeking. The ingredients in that one are good enough. Green Jeans is really good, a borderline "niche" fragrance. I suggest trying Samba Nova for men, however, rather than Blue Jeans, for something similar but better in every way, though the ingredients' quality is probably in the same range.

I liked the original better yes, however I don't mind the Marine. It's the cleaner version of the original, and more linear. Longevity is just bad bad bad, I might've given this a thumbs up if it weren't for that.

Vintage Youth Dew is warm incense with spicy clove and cinnamon. On me it's pretty linear in its developement, (until the end, when the ambery vanilla and tolu take over), but that's okay because it has enough going on that those who love dense Orientals should like this.

For a celebuscent this is not too bad ,honestly. The juice is white floral and sweet. Much inspiration taken from the likes of Carolina Herrera and Fracas. Opens strong and sweet ,staying power is quite good. My gripe with is the bottle and packaging - it is hideous and cheap . Folks, it could be worse !

The death of Route du Vetiver literally made me cry. That, and Eau des Iles (although there is a replacement with l'Artisan's eau du navigateur), and Iris Bleu Gris...

RDV is by far the Greatest Vetiver ever created. It is at the apex of the French method's Art of Perfumery.

Literally every negative comment I've read here has been subjective to the utmost. That's not the way you judge a piece of art, created by the hands of the greatest modern Master Perfumer (Jean LaPorte).

The inspiration for this fragrance is the 17th Century. If you can't enlist your mind to be ready for something of a miracle of art, then you should not engage to venture into the atelier of a miracle worker.

Certainly, body chemistry may or may not allow RDV to develop as it wants to, in the best way it wants to -- but to claim that this fragrance is ANYTHING BUT a MASTERPIECE reveals the lacking of the wearer, and not the bottled.

its a very abrasive chemical chypre with a harsh unpleasing aroma. the lady at the scent counter did NOT approve of this stuff and actually almost burst out laughing when she thought they were selling it

faint version of A'men with less chocolate and MUCH more powdery. overall i really cannot tell its a guys scent its pretty unisex and bland..........with LOTS of poweder! not something i would really wear anywhere

I went out and read all the reviews on this before writing my own. i see most people like it, and I will not be disagreeing with them.

This is a nice smokey, benzoin tinged fragrance. Benzoin, to the unaware, wears a bit sweet, and this is what folks are referring to wiht their 'sweet' comments.

One thing that caught my eye was a review that this isn't selling well. I suspect I know why. As a piece of art this perfume is very lovely, but when placed in the Louvre it turns forgetable. i'm assuming that this is a genre that most folks want one, maybe two bottles of.

As an incense/benzoin i have Bois D'armenie, which is more complex than this. As a sweet woody i think Sonoma Scent's Winter Woods has the edge.

And so on for every aspect of this fragrance. in sum, a good scent when reviewed alone, an OK scent when reviewed against the competition.

If the point of this was to smell like grass, it does so pretty well.Unfortunately, it's also super linear. Opens with a harsh, almost alcohol-like blast of citrus/grass. In around half an hour, the grass and citurs softens out a bit, and I smell a tiny bit of musk or woods, but there's still a sharp alcohol smell lingering in the background.Wearable, but not recommended (unless you really like smelling like grass)

Expecting it to be a gourmand, I was very used to the usual chocolate/coffee/immediate vanilla notes usually present in a gourmand fragrance. I did not expect this one to be any different. Boy was I wrong.

What I get initially is a nice warm Anise note, for those of you who are familiar with the seed, imagine crushed Anise with Black Liquorice in a mortar, followed by a dash of sweetness. This is exactly what it smells like to me. This scent just cuts right through the cold for me.

One thing to note, don't confuse the Anise with the Star Anise, they are similar but they smell very different. For those of you living in South East Asia who are familiar with the Star Anise in Asian cooking, don't think that the Anise note in Lolita Lempicka smells like that. It's very different. The Anethole note in Lolita Lempicka Au Masculin is evident.

The Black Liquorice note does not have the "stinging" finish that most people are familiar with, I'm referring to the sharp sign-board smell telling you that, "Hey that's Liquorice" rather this note is extremely well-blended with the Anise and it took me quite awhile to identify it. Very unique.

Lolita Lempicka Au Masculin will maintain this Anise/Liquorice note very well throughout its lifespan, those of you who are Anise/Liquorice lovers will adore this fragrance. I believe it is very well balanced because the Anise/Liquorice has a foundation of vanilla the bottom, to me it does not scream Anise/Liquorice as most would assert, because I feel that this fragrance blends these ingredients very well. Like Rochas Man, with the coffee note and vanilla, Lolita Lempicka Au Masculin mixes the Anise/Liquorice very nicely with the vanilla.

For those of you who love Rochas Man's coffee/vanilla note, don't expect any Mocha sweetness here, this is a different kind of sweetness. For those of you who love something bold/confident/unique/refreshing, this is for you.

Got this fragrance in the mail, I couldn't resist, I sprayed some on my wrist and took a sniff every 2minutes to see it's progression. I'm thoroughly impressed.

This is a VERY SMOOTH fragrance, the first thing I get upon spraying is a nice lavender and floral note, the sharpness of these notes are laying on a foundation of a nice light and sweet coffee note. After a few minutes though, the floral notes seems to give in to the coffee note, the vanilla note starts to kick in and it was about this time when I just wanted to eat my entire arm.

It smells amazing, right now I am getting a very nice creamy, vanilla, sweet coffee smell which is not cloying at all, it is not overdone, very well blended, very well-made. It has got just the right amount of sweetness.

in my opinion GIT is very sharp green woody and fresh fragrence and I like it.According to The House of Creed, the Green Irish Tweed is the best-selling item in its collection. It was released in 1985 and has remained a favorite among all of Creed's men's colognes.The fresh and clean fragrance of the Green Irish Tweed has top notes of lemon and verbena, middle notes of Irish and violet leaves, and base notes of sandalwood and ambergris. Few people find this fragrance very strong, but many of its patrons think that the smell is just right. It is perfect for day and night use so men are assured of smelling fresh and clean all day.

I usually find rose notes in fragrances quite cloying and over the top. When I smelled ROSE immediately upon opening the cap on the bottle, I figured that this would be just another of those cloying, overdone rose scents. Well, this is a fragrance with a strong rose note, but, as strong as it is, I don’t find it cloying, and that is highly unusual for me, but perhaps it’s not totally the rose note that provides the dynamic force of the opening. I think that the rose note in combination with the gaïac and honey notes gives it its potency, and that is also likely the reason that I can tolerate the accord as well as I do.

This is an excellent scent. As big as the rose note is, it is superiorly presented. It’s obvious that the balance of notes and the sophistication of the movement from beginning to end could only was created by a gifted perfumer. The fragrance is warm with good, but not overbearing sillage. It lasts and lasts. To me it’s still a rose fragrance so I won’t be buying, but Sa Majeste La Rose is about as good as they get for me.

Yes, this one is a scrubber – in more ways than one: First, I can’t leave it on my skin for more than thiry minutes because it smells so disagreeably synthetic and it does seem to be headache inducing. Second it does smell too much like certain types of bathroom scrubbing products in well-cared-for public bathrooms. The citrus of the opening is neither the clean, pure kind of citrus nor the lemon-drop sweet version. It’s cleaning product citrus with a powerful synthetic delivery. The middle herbal notes – especially the combination of coriander and lavender – also contribute to the cleanser personality. For the base I can’t break through the strong synthetics to determine a wood / tonka accord, so the scent is a complete loser for me and I don’t really know what happens after thirty minutes. Unlike many of Bogart’s earlier creations, Silver Scent leaves an awful lot to be desired.

What a treat this one is! Acqua e Zucchero is not really the orange blossom cologne that its name implies. It is a vanilla gourmand that is not demure in producing sillage and longevity. The straightforward and linear sillage is a delicious and inviting vanilla with occasional hints of berries. I really can’t separate out the orange blossom, but I’m sure it’s there mellowing and enriching the vanilla / berry brew. As noticeable as the sillage is, it is not overdone or cloying: It simply, lovingly sends out its pleasant, balanced wisps of gourmand goodness. Delightful aroma; very good, non-cloying sillage; and good longevity… All-around excellent…

Iced coffee? …can’t prove it by me. I don’t get any coffee, but I do get a strong nutmeg note. (I am oversensitive to nutmeg.) With that nutmeg note is a weak menthol note that accounts for a stab of cool that might be responsible for the fragrance’s name… The name, Ice Man, is a real stretch: To my nose it is 90% nutmeg and the remaining 10% is divided among a few other negligible note. I get minimal “ice” or “cool” from it. I think I can detect some distant patchouli and some vanilla, but I don’t get a very complex, or a very interesting, or a very original accord. I get nutmeg, vanilla, and maybe menthol. Its sillage is quite strong – nutmegwise, but otherwise… ehhh.

It is moderately interesting; it is very linear; it has acceptable longevity. I could recommend this for those who like nutmeg, but it’s not a fragrance for me.

The opening of Lentisque is quite strong a even a bit unique. I would guess that the dominant note is the ambret seeds, which, if I am correct, presents a surface of dry, rustic amber with a sweeter, more regular amber note shadowing it. The heart notes are apparently supposed to go into a floral accord, which does come across to me in a light, discreet package: a touch of jasmine, rose, and iris in a unified floral accord which shifts with the amber accord in a come and go way. The floral / amber heart deserves the label “transparent” if anything does… it is light and filmy but it still possesses character. For the drydown I get more amber – rather a straightforward, transparent amber, but so light. It’s so light that I can’t even tell if the drydown is sweet or not.

I’m tempted to say that Lentisque is too weak to be a viable fragrance for most scentiphiles, but I won’t do that because I do think it has a place in the aromatic -scheme of things. It makes a wonderful, long lasting skin sent that feels light / rich / natural rather than contrived. It has a sweet / dry… almost gourmand feel that is sensual on a near-subconscious level.